


An Artist of Theft

by blacktofade



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Flirting, M/M, Pickpockets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry discovers a pickpocket who goes by the name of Eggsy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Artist of Theft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BakaDoll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakaDoll/gifts).



> Written for the Hartwin Secret Santa fest. Hope you enjoy, dear recipient! :)

The first time it happens, Harry doesn’t even notice until after the fact.

The boy—well, he’s not really a boy; looks more like a man in his early twenties—accidentally knocks into him on the high street. He has a flat peak hat pulled low over his eyes and his shoulders are hunched under his oversized hoodie as though perhaps he’s upset. Harry doesn’t bother to berate him for not looking where he’s going; he obviously has other things to worry about.

So, Harry spares him one last glance and continues on his way.

He makes it all the way to the Kingsman shop before he realises he no longer has his wallet, the one he keeps in the inner pocket of his coat. He pauses with his hand on the door, his mind immediately flashing back to the boy—the man in the cap—and he can’t believe it slipped by him.

The kid is good, he’ll give him that.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone and calls his bank. He needs to cancel his cards before anything worse can happen. It’s an inconvenience that he doesn’t have time for and if he sees the man again, he’ll be sure to let him know exactly what he thinks.

*

However, the next time Harry sees him, Harry is halfway through a mission and is following two potential targets. Said targets spook easily and flee from a dubious pub called The Black Prince, barging into the young man from before, knocking the cap clean off his head and giving Harry a clear view of his furious expression.

“Oi!” the man yells. “Watch where you’re fucking going!”

Harry hasn’t started chasing yet, wanting to keep his cover for as long as possible, and he carefully steps around the lad, muttering a quiet, “Pardon me.”

He feels a heavy gaze on his back and pretends not to notice, while another man—possibly the same age as the first—slips from a side road.

He waves to someone behind Harry, which must be the kid, and says, “Wassup, Eggsy?”

There’s a dull thud and a muffled yelp that Harry pretends not to hear, before there’s a hissed, “Shut the fuck up, Jamal,” from the boy who seems to—strangely—be named Eggsy.

Names are good; he’ll remember for future, but at present, he doesn’t have time to stop. He has a tail to maintain.

He slips out of sight and takes off at a sprint.

*

It takes two weeks to see Eggsy again.

He’s made it all the way up to Old Bond Street this time, clearly setting his sights high. Harry’s only passing through on a quiet afternoon stroll, but he spots the whiteness of Eggsy’s cap from the other side of the street. Fascinated, he slows, pretending to pull out his phone and check his messages while paused just beyond the entranceway to Chatila.

He’s talking with a young woman, who remarkably seems won over and thoroughly charmed by whatever it is Eggsy is saying. To be fair, Eggsy looks alive; he’s gesticulating with his hands as he animatedly talks, a grin on his face that could lure in even the coldest of people.

He rests a hand on the woman’s forearm as he points to something down the road and Harry’s eyebrows raise the moment Eggsy slips her watch clean off without her even seeming to notice. With light fingers, Eggsy tucks it into the pocket of his hoodie, offers the woman one last cheeky grin and then heads on his way, cap angled perfectly to keep his face from view from a nearby CCTV camera.

He’s not an amateur, Harry realises in that moment. He’s most likely been doing this for years.

Quickly and quietly, Harry follows Eggsy from the opposite side of the road, carefully adjusting his stride when Eggsy crosses over to slip down Burlington Gardens and then onto Old Burlington Street. It’s a little less populated there and as Eggsy turns onto yet another side street, Harry picks up the pace to walk beside him.

“And what do you plan on doing with a young woman’s wristwatch?” Harry asks, startling Eggsy enough that he knocks into a dustbin set beside the pavement.

Thankfully, Eggsy thinks better of running, obviously believes he can take Harry on if things get messy, and he turns to face Harry with his mouth curled up in a smirk.

“You what?” he says, eyes glinting, knowing precisely what Harry said.

“I suspect she’ll be looking for her watch about now,” Harry tells him and Eggsy holds out his hands, showing off bare wrists and even barer palms.

“What watch?” Eggsy asks. “Don’t know nothing about no watch.”

Slowly, Harry brings himself to his full height, using every inch to lean over Eggsy as an intimidation tactic.

“Although I’m proficient in more than thirty different types of it,” Harry begins, “I’d rather not dance around the issue.”

Eggsy slowly rakes his eyes along Harry’s body, clearly meant to take Harry off-guard, and although Harry is used to such attention with the handful of honeypot missions he’s been apart of over his years of service, he can’t help but enjoy the attention.

“Is that so?” Eggsy asks. “What about ballet? I don’t think you’ve got the legs for it.”

“Classical and contemporary,” Harry lies and Eggsy grins as though he already knows. “What do you think?”

Eggsy shakes his head and smirks again. “With those hips? Rumba, mate.”

Harry lets his own eyes dip down Eggsy’s body as he asks, “And what about you?”

“Me?” Eggsy questions with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Any dancing in your career, or is it all nimble fingers and nothing below the waist?”

Eggsy laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners—something that is unfathomably charming to Harry—and he shakes his head.

“No dancing, guv,” he tells Harry, leaving a conspicuous pause, clearly meant to draw Harry in, which it does, try as he might. “Just gymnastics. I’ve been told my splits are impressive. Maybe one day you’ll see for yourself.”

As he suspects it’s meant to with the amount of innuendo dripping from the words, Harry immediately pictures Eggsy poised over him, naked and unashamed in Harry’s bed, with his legs spread wide as he rides him. Harry blinks—once, twice—trying to dispel the image from mind’s eye.

“Indeed,” Harry replies “Though that can’t rightly happen if you wind up in the local gaol.”

Eggsy seems to enjoy Harry’s concern and leans in as though trading a secret.

“And what are you, bruv? A copper?”

“Of sorts,” Harry says vaguely and Eggsy smiles as though he knows something Harry doesn’t.

“Well, I happen to know for a fact that ain’t true because your name is Harry Hart and you work at a shop on Saville Row.”

For once in his life, something takes Harry by surprise. And he thinks he becomes a little infatuated with the young man and his quick tongue and secret talents.

“How—?” Harry begins and Eggsy seems to immediately realise he’s managed to one-up him, knows he has the upperhand now.

Eggsy taps the side of his nose and says, “A magician should never reveals his tricks.”

The obvious explanation is that Eggsy memorised the information on his driver’s licence or found his business card when he stole Harry’s wallet, but it doesn’t explain _why_ , which is what Harry is most curious about.

“I suppose if you know my name, it’s only fair that I call you _Eggsy_ , is it not?”

Eggsy grins widely, seeming not to care that Harry knows who he is.

“That _was_ you then. The other night down by the Black Prince. Was wondering what you was up to. Guess you just couldn’t stay away.”

Harry offers him a small smile as he says, “I’m afraid you flatter yourself, Eggsy. The fact that I saw you there was pure coincidence.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy asks. “And what was a bloke like you doing down there?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Harry teases, bringing a smile to Eggsy’s lips.

“A regular James Bond, you are,” Eggsy tells him. “Well, if that’s so, why aren’t you off around the world fighting bad guys?”

“Because there were reports of a thief stealing women’s watches and men’s wallets right here in the city.”

Eggsy makes a concerned face and says, “Hope you catch him, guv. Sounds like a right piece of work.”

“So he is,” Harry murmurs. “The trouble is that I don’t know how to convince him to stop without getting the law involved.”

“Well,” Eggsy says, leaning in slightly. “Maybe you should let him know when that James Bond agency of yours is hiring because I’m sure what he’s really looking for is a stable job.”

“You’re looking for a life of crime-fighting?” Harry asks him and Eggsy shrugs.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Harry scratches his jaw and takes a moment to think.

“What would you say to a job as a tailor?” Harry asks and Eggsy adjusts his stance.

“As a spy, you mean?”

“Let’s work our way up to that, hmm?”

Eggsy grins, not seeming to realise how true Harry’s words are.

“What good would I be as a tailor?”

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirks as he replies.

“You seem to be the sort of young man that would appreciate a good inseam.”

Eggsy’s eyebrows shoot up as he laughs, not seeming to expect Harry’s words at all.

“Bruv,” he says, sounding shocked.

“Is that a yes?” Harry asks and Eggsy laughs again.

“I’ll think about it,” Eggsy tells him and Harry nods with a small smile.

“You know where to find me,” Harry says, knowing it was out of his hands now. It was up to Eggsy to make the next move

“I do,” Eggsy agrees before falling silent.

“I hope to see you again, Eggsy,” Harry tells him. “Though I do hope it’s not under similar circumstances as today.”

Eggsy smiles crookedly at him and shrugs.

“Maybe,” Eggsy says, “or maybe not. We’ll see, eh?”

“Indeed,” Harry agrees, regretting that it’s time to end their conversation and leave it up to fate to decide what their future holds. Eggsy could go far as an agent, he suspects. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Eggsy. Try not to get caught.”

Eggsy smirks as he confidently says, “I won’t.”

Harry snorts quietly and finally turns away, ready to head to the shop finally. He’ll log everything with Merlin and see what he thinks, though he suspects he’ll defer to Harry’s opinion anyway. He makes it two steps away before Eggsy speaks again.

“Oh, Harry?” Eggsy calls out, stopping Harry where he is. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

With a quirk of his eyebrow, Harry turns around to find Eggsy holding up a wallet—the very same one Harry only just bought after Eggsy stole the last—between two fingers. Harry pats the inner pocket of his jacket just to be sure—and, yes, he’s certainly missing something—and can’t help but huff out a breath of laughter.

“Very good, Eggsy,” he says, holding out his hand, onto which Eggsy places the nicked wallet.

“Top spy material,” Eggsy tells him and Harry nods as though agreeing.

“You know where to find me,” Harry repeats before turning away again.

He can feel Eggsy’s gaze follow him down the street and he can only imagine what will happen if Eggsy turns up at the doorstep of Kingsman. They’re in for a treat, he knows.


End file.
